


I'm At Your Mercy

by PlumpPeachPrincess



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, But no gender stated, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Mild Knifeplay, Nonbinary Character, Orgasm Denial, Other, Predator/Prey, Reader is gn but is afab and wears a dress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 07:54:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlumpPeachPrincess/pseuds/PlumpPeachPrincess
Summary: Based off Thatbloodhoundaccent on tumblr post! You push a little too hard at Bloodhound's buttons, flirting, wearing a short little dress, living off a high of your prior game. They watch, ever the hunter, and ever the patient person until you come out.A game of predator and prey through the forest leads to your capture.They are not merciful.





	I'm At Your Mercy

This was your fault, you kindly remind yourself as you pant and shoot looks over your shoulder in fear. Your legs burn from the effort to keep ahead, branches whipping you in the sides if you run by them too fast. The mud in your boots isn’t helping your pace either. With sunlight gone of the remaining sunset, you are left with a cloudy night of beautiful stars and moonlight shining down upon you, being your only guide. To run, hide, do as your told for fear of getting caught. Your skin prickles, goosebumps racing across your flesh at the feeling of being watched. 

This was your fault, you remind yourself. 

\-- 

It had started playfully enough. A good match had you feeling confident, and the fact your partner hadn’t caught you had been even better. Sure, you hadn’t been the one to take them out by a long shot in the match, but the fact they hadn’t caught you was hard on their ego. If on opposing squad, it was practically their mission to find you and hunt you down. A game, a sport of sorts. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you excited. 

So, high on confidence, you’d gone to the bar. Bloodhound hadn’t shown up yet so you assumed perhaps they’d gone for a walk, blew off some steam elsewhere. You’d dressed in a short black dress and their leather jacket with furs lining the collar. The familiar scent had you burying your face into it often to settle your nerves. And at some point, it had dripped off your shoulders to expose them as you laughed with a friend. 

You didn’t realize you’d been being watched until familiar prickles raise on the back of your neck. You don’t look for them, you’d recognize those eyes anywhere. Haunted by the red lenses of goggles that hungrily watch you from the shadows. Your lips pull into a smirk, biting your bottom lip softly as you figure- why not up the ante? 

So , you flirt your way around. Draping over another friend’s back to murmur in her ear, a stupid pick up line that turns her face pink as she laughs and shrugs you off with a shooing motion. At some point as you move around the bar, you can feel the pair of eyes moving with you. They’re monitoring you, watching, waiting. 

But, they never come out of their hiding spot. Normally, Bloodhound is respectable, but possessive. They do not like you getting close like that to others in a romantic or sexual position. You hesitate, thinking maybe you’ve stepped out of your bounds when you finally look for them and cannot find them. Guilt starts pooling in your gut- perhaps you went too far? 

When you step out of the bar for fresh air, you yelp as you’re snatched and dragged into an alley. Your back hits the brick and your hands come up to start wreching the person off you- but as your eyes lift and meet familiar red, your breath hitches. 

They look beautiful and intimidating as ever. An average height, but a bulky build with a tight black scoop neck shirt on clinging to tight muscles. Their goggles resting upon their face as well as a lower face mask looking like it had been printed with rows of sharp teeth on the front. Scars peek on their cheeks, their red long hair pulled into a ponytail to show off the shaved underside of their head and all the piercings decorating their ears. Tight black jeans with rips in them that got your blood racing from the way it hugged them, thick combat boots and gloved hands. 

“You think I did not notice what you are trying to pull?” They start slowly, a soft breath of almost amusement at the beginning. Their voice is intimidatingly slow, heavily accented and you swallow thickly as they lean in to accentuate their next words. “Flirting? Wearing...that?” Their fingers trace down your curves, over the jacket- THEIR jacket. 

You part your lips to speak, a quiver to your body, but they lean in closer. Their lips may be covered by a mask, but they brush sweetly over your ear through it as they growl out. “Run. Hide. Do not let me find you, lest you wish for the gods to see you bare before their eyes.” A threat. A threat you can keep up with. 

They stop barring you with their arms, allowing you a headstart to book it around back and into the nearby woods. But, you knew better, this would only end with what they wanted. 

\-- 

In the darkness surrounding your body, you don’t know what way you’ve gone or if you’re even running in the right direction. You see a small light breaking through some trees and dart that way. The moonlight breaks through the treetops into an open clearing, it’d be beautiful if you weren’t being hunted and this wasn’t the most open spot you could have ran to. 

You go to turn around, scurrying but a weight knocks you first. You cry out, going tumbling with it. You hear familiar chuckle and it sends you into a flurry, managing to roll on top of them and shoving at their shoulders. You don’t have time to look at their amused look, jerking off them and bolting for the side of the forest only to get caught again. 

They don’t allow you to win this time, slamming you against a tree instead. Snatching your fighting arms and slamming them above your head. Their warmed body presses to yours as you both pant from the exertion. Their eyes behind their goggles are solely focused on you, searching your flushed face as you knock your head back with a groan at being caught. They seem pleased by this, tugging their mask down to around their neck and exposing soft, full lips. A medusa piercing resting above the cupid’s bow of their lips. The way their lips part showing off glinting long canines and a flash of their tongue piercing. 

Their tongue slides up your throat, teeth nipping at the side of your neck. You give a jerk of your arms, a mistake as they snarl and slam you harder with one hand, the other fumbling at the bag on their back and brandishing rope that they tie swiftly around your wrists. Knowing you won’t hold still, their hunting knife is slammed through the rope, but not to break the bonds. To hold you into the tree. 

You’re unable to jerk yourself out, it’d require a lot of fumbling on your part. You still fight, knowing they liked the fight you put up. As they sink their teeth into the side of your neck instead of playful nips, you scream out into the night. Lifting your body weight up to use your legs. Scrunching yourself up and planting your boots firmly on their thighs. 

You shove and they jerk back, mouth parted to show dots of blood on their mouth. It makes you laugh, breathy and thrilled at their predatorial look. “You think that is funny?” They growl out, nice and low, thrumming in your very body. You guess they don’t like it when you beam, nodding because your dress is ripped from you in a show of strength. The seams split right down the center from a tear a branch had made. 

Another knife brandished, they drop their bag to the ground, rolling their shoulders as you are left in only their jacket and your underwear. You give a bodily jerk, twisting yourself as best as you can and try to kick them when they come close. They catch you this time, pulling your legs firmly around their waist so you can only submit to it. 

“Do not move,” they murmur more a threat than a comfort as their knife slides down the side of your face. Down to your bra where they tuck the tip underneath the middle between the cups. Pulling o nthe knife as it cuts through the fabric with a pop. Your breathing is heavy as the point of the blade traces down your abdomen, not making a cut as you hold your breath when they bring it down to pop the sides of your underwear the same way. Bared except their jacket with a few dots of blood blooming from the bite mark in your neck. 

You swallow heavily, lust pooling throughout your body as your heavily lidded eyes watch them. They seem to want to taunt you, stabbing the knife into the tree beside your head, but you don’t flinch. Hungrily watching them instead. 

Lips finally cover yours. Primal, possessive hands slide over your bare flesh. Bared before the gods as promised. Their gloved fingers feel rough as they cup your breasts and slide thumbs over your peaked nipples. You bite at their lower lip, earning a groan as they lick their way into your mouth to taste you. Your head swims, hips tilting and gyrating against the front of their pants. Trying to gather enough friction to do anything. 

They don’t stop you, allowing you the sweet relief as they relish in your taste. Humming thoughtfully when you moan out in reply, a soft, low noise in your throat as your hips desperately move to gather enough pleasure. 

Your slick soaks into the front of their dark jeans, you can feel it, and you’re sure that they can too judging by how they release your mouth to mouth hungrily at your neck again. One hand clutches at your hip firmly, digging bruises into your flesh as their other hand slides between both your hips to cup at your sex. Their roughly padded thumb slipping between your lower lips and rubbing your clit in soothing circles. Applying just enough pressure to make your eyes dip back into your head. 

“Hound-” You whine out finally, breaking the silence save for your heavy breathing. They hum in reply, tracing lips over your pulse. Your body aches from running, tired and aching for that sweet release you pray and pray they will give you. They could toy with you for hours, could have you spread open like this- could leave you on this tree for them to come back with toys to play with. You know this, and they don’t have to say it as a threat. You know better. 

“Please, please, fuck let me cum- gods baby I won’t- ah- I won’t do it again please!” You try the begging route. They liked their prey submissive, you’ve played into the role many times. Their thumb teases at your clit, pressing a touch too hard to make the pain stutter your orgasm. You nearly cry, eyes teary and clutching your legs tighter around their fit frame. 

Their red hair is the only thing in your vision when you glance down. You feel a sharp pain in your neck again, another bite. The cold lenses of their goggles rest on your skin that feels much too hot. You buck your hips but they hold you tight right where they want you, no matter how badly you shake. 

Tears fill your eyes and threaten to overflow, you try again, desperate by now as heat swarms your lower belly. “PLEASE! Please! Anything! I’ll d-do anythiii-AH!” You drawl in a whine, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when they press hard on your clit when you’re right there. You can feel your own pulse in your clit, throbbing and aching. 

But no such sweet release, they return both hands to your hips to rub in soothing circles even as you try to buck and thrash on their hips. “Anything? Hm...Then you shall be patient. You will cum when I allow it.” Their voice is spiced honey to your ears, cruel and sweet. 

You will not be going home until into the 3 am time. You know this. And you will not cum until you are making a pool beneath you and they have had their fill of seeing you ache and beg. 

But...by the gods do you love them. The way they chuckle cruelly as you sob before sinking fingers into you swiftly. 

It was your fault, you remind yourself for the last time.


End file.
